PLAYERS

PLAYERS; 526-POUNDS FELLS A SUMO TRADITION

By CLYDE HABERMAN

Published: May 28, 1987

TOKYO—
In the rarefied upper echelons of Japanese sumo wrestling, foreigners have been about as welcome as Visigoths were at the gates of Rome.

But tradition absorbed a punishing blow yesterday when a 526-pound man-mountain from Hawaii, who fights under the professional name of Konishiki, was promoted to the rank of ozeki, or champion. It is the second highest level in the fiercely guarded sumo pantheon.

Over the 300 years that professional wrestlers have thundered and grunted across the clay ring, no foreigner had ever climbed so high. So it was big news here when the sweet-faced Konishiki, in loose black robes, knelt on a straw mat before senior officials of the Japan Sumo Association, bowed as low as his layers of flesh would allow and accepted his promotion with required humility.

''I will strive to practice harder in order not to disgrace the title of ozeki,'' he said in Japanese. Later, the 23-year-old wrestler allowed himself to smile broadly and to tell a close friend triumphantly, in English, ''I did it.'' He acknowledged that he would like to step up one day to the top rank of yokozuna, or grand champion.

To give an idea of how difficult Konishiki's accomplishment is, there have been only 62 ozeki among the many thousands of sumo wrestlers since Emperor Hirohito ascended to the throne in 1926. The tough road that lies ahead is spotlighted by the fact that there have been only 61 yokozuna over the last three centuries.

Konishiki (pronounced coe-NISH-key, meaning ''small brocade'') received many words of praise today, including congratulations from Mike Mansfield, the United States Ambassador to Japan. ''Sumo's traditions of hard work, fair play and respect for ability have been well-served,'' Ambassador Mansfield said. ''We are proud of this American first, and look forward to many more.''

In the long history of sumo, which is deeply rooted in Shinto, the national religion, only two men took less time than Konishiki to reach ozeki. The young man, whose real name is Salevaa Atisanoe, required only 30 tournaments, spread across the five years since he left his Samoa-born parents in Hawaii.

His basic style is to use his breathtaking girth to slap and push opponents out of the circle before they know what hit them.

In sumo, where matches often last little more than a blink, agility and technique count as much as, if not more than, brute force. It is not uncommon for Konishiki, the heaviest wrestler in the sport's history, to lose to more dextrous men who look relatively svelte at a mere 400 pounds.

Still, he has developed the necessary combination of what Japanese call shin-gi-tai - spirit, skill and power. In the 15-day tournament that ended last Sunday, he dispatched two yokozuna with little trouble. And he has acquired consistency. His new rank is based on solid performances in the last three tournaments, which yielded a total of 33 victories in 45 matches.

In a sport often described as feudal and xenophobic, non-Japanese have become increasingly conspicuous among the roughly 800 professional competitors. There are now 12 in all, clustered mostly in the lower divisons, including an Argentine who combined the Japanese word for ''star'' with a famous dance to fight under the name of Hoshitango.

The acceptance of foreigners quickened with the success of another Hawaiian, Jesse Kuhaulua, who is Konishiki's mentor and who fought for 20 years under the name of Takamiyama until he retired in 1984. Takamiyama is the only foreigner ever to win a tournament in the top makuuchi division.

Although closely related, tournament victories and individual rankings are not automatically linked. Takamiyama never reached higher than sekiwake, the No. 3 rank, while Konishiki has yet to finish first in a tournament.

But he will have to win one, and probably two, if he ever hopes to move up the ladder.

Kiyotaka Kasugano, the Sumo Association's executive director, said he was convinced that Konishiki had ''a good chance'' of becoming a yokozuna. Still, many traditionalists would consider that close to sacrilege.

''Some people doubt that a foreigner can truly understand the spirit of sumo,'' said Seitaro Takahashi, sumo writer for the newspaper Asahi Shimbun.

Proof of the lingering resistance comes from the crowds that fill the Ryogoku Kokugikan in Tokyo, the country's main sumo arena. They cheer when Konishiki wins. But they cheer even louder when he loses.